


so long we become the flowers

by sirensangel



Series: of mechs and music [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Cottagecore, F/M, Flower Language, Flower Talk, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I love dreadwing, dreadwing ? dead ? not under MY roof, hasbro his death was lazy writing so i'm going to pretend like it didn't happen, he deserves better, he has so much potential ??, i would pay good money to see him in more episodes, super underrated, talk of his dead brother, tender moments with reader, this is inspired by hozier, who also had a lot of potential
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25167097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirensangel/pseuds/sirensangel
Summary: He would come here once he was relieved of his duties. The secluded haven offered him the serenity he needed. Here, he would mourn for his brother and ponder upon the fate of his homeworld. While it was true that this isolated field was no Cybertron, it will suffice, for now. As much as he was reluctant to admit it, there was a certain kind of beauty on Earth - a strange yet comforting form of beauty.He had enjoyed his moments of solitude.Until you came.
Relationships: Dreadwing (Transformers)/You, Dreadwing/Reader
Series: of mechs and music [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766410
Comments: 12
Kudos: 68





	so long we become the flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zoonimooni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoonimooni/gifts).



> song for this fic is Hozier's In a Week !

A florist. That’s what they called you.

Dreadwing watched from atop the hill, taking in the sight of you wadding through the dense cluster of flowers. The petals gleamed under the setting sun, drenched in gold and red, the colors peeling away with each passing moment. Nothing could have prepared the Seeker for Earth’s diverse collection of flora. From the lush stretch of green rolling down the moors to the vibrant blossoms scattered by the riverbanks.

Where Cybertron was stiff and unyielding, this little blue planet was soft and pliant, honing a certain kind of tenderness Dreadwing didn't recognize.

He would come here once he was relieved of his duties. The secluded haven offered him the serenity he needed. Here, he would mourn for his brother and ponder upon the fate of his homeworld. While it was true that this isolated field was no Cybertron, it will suffice, for now. As much as he was reluctant to admit it, there was a certain kind of beauty on Earth - a strange yet comforting form of beauty.

He had enjoyed his moments of solitude.

Until you came.

Once in a while, he would spot you by chance. He had caught you searching the grassland for flowers. You once brought company with you, and shrouded by the looming pine trees, Dreadwing was able to make out your conversation.

A florist. That's what they called you.

One who markets flowers and ornamental plants.

Dreadwing could not understand the appeal in gifting one another dead plants. While he could comprehend the want to exchange pleasantries to strengthen camaraderie, wrapping decaying flowers in 'decorative' paper doesn't seem to justify the intent.

You squealed in surprise as a flock of doves scattered around you, jumping out of the bushes to knock off your hat. Your laughter was carried by the wind, echoing throughout the valley.

He has been watching you for quite some time now, using this as a chance to learn more about the planet's natives. The second in command begrudgingly finds himself drawn to you. Time to himself aboard the Nemesis was rare, even more so, now that Megatron is hellbent on finding the Iacon relics.

Yet, from the way he's sacrificing such luxuries to watch you hum to yourself, it was safe to say that you had caught his interest.

* * *

You adjusted your straw hat, wiping the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead with the back of your palm. At the sight of your soiled jeans, you jogged to the river, rubbing your dirt-stained hands together.

Not far from you, a young nightingale serenaded the evening with its laughter, its sable feathers ruffling as it danced along to nature's call. A strike of cobalt adorned its wings, only seen when it leaped into the air to swoop against the branch of a magnificent oaken tree. The barks were lined with wrinkles, the cracks between them seeping nectar that shined like gold, soft enough to be mistaken as honey as it drips against the mushrooms festering by its roots.

You loaded the full basket into your car, going over tomorrow's list. A gust of wind swept past you, playfully tugging your hair. Despite this, you could tell that the last days of spring peeling away to reveal the summer heat.

A funny feeling pricked the back of your neck, urging you to turn around. Shrouded underneath the grass, were insects chirping to their heart's content, rejoicing in the absence of the sun's blistering heat. Their conversations echoed throughout the slopes and curves of the earth, carried away by the warm air engulfing the steep cliffside.

You eyed the cloak of trees, only to find nothing.

* * *

" There you are."

Years of training have made it impossible for anyone to slip past his notice. That was why Dreadwing had sensed your presence even before you spoke. He must give you credit, he would have never suspected you to actually pursue him. Yet, here you are, standing behind him.

It was beyond the Seeker on why you didn't run. Were you not frightened?

He turned to face you.

The look in your eyes could only be described as curious, if not surprised. You kept a safe distance, leaning shyly behind a boulder. There was a moment where neither of you spoke.

" Why are you all alone?"

You boldly stepped closer, drifting through the tall grass. A breeze rolled down the prairie, sweeping back your hair. He had to catch himself from giving away his shock.

Out of all the questions you could have asked, you settled for concern.

Strange.

A part of him encouraged Dreadwing to leave. It felt wrong, it felt like treason. Yet, Megatron did not give any instructions concerning the natives of this planet. Nothing is stopping him from interacting with you.

Then why did he find it so difficult to reply? In your hands was a basket, woven out of wood - wicker, the humans called it. Inside were dozens of flowers, ranging from blood red to cerulean blue.

You waited, inching towards him.

Your hands, the Seeker noted, were exceptionally small, as they reach out to him. They looked so soft, so gentle.

His arm twitched. Yet he kept them grounded to his sides.

At this, you continued to admire him. He should feel scrutinized, he should feel outraged, yet you didn't seem appalled. If anything, you only seemed to grow bolder, your interest shining through your eyes as you held out a flower to him.

He eyed the petals, taken aback. You urged him to take it and for the first time in centuries, Dreadwing was too stunned to deny your request. In a blink of an eye, his hand had reached out to pluck the miniature stalk, doing its best to cradle the dainty petals.

You settled to sit, stretching your legs. You patted to the spot next to you, beaming up at him as if you've met before. He should be concerned about your lack of reaction. Where was the hysteria Knockout warned him about? Where was the fear Starscream bragged humans exhibit when they see him ? Where was the look of disgust Megatron had once mentioned?

He hesitated. Yet the sky was starting to glow brilliant red, with streaks of lilac sketching its hemisphere.

Surely, there was no harm in indulging you?

He remained standing, staring ahead. Before him, the cliffside sloped downwards, like the mouth of a mythical beast its jaws stretched against each side of the hollow cavern. In his peripheral he could see you stretch, running your fingers through your flowers ; a result of a hard day's work. There was a certain kind of respect blooming inside of him at the sight of dirt dusting your cheek. Even if you were small and frail, you still manage to singlehandedly unearth nearly a carriage full of blossoms.

" You've been watching me for a while, haven't you?"

As if his thoughts have manifested itself, you shot him a smile. You didn't sound hostile or accusing, instead, you sounded...relaxed. Content in basking under the last hours of dusk.

" That's okay. I'm not scared. If you wanted to hurt me you would have done it a long time ago. Maybe you didn't want to scare me away, so you kept your distance." She gestured to the flower in his hand. " But you don't have to anymore. You- you look lonely. I can keep you company."

He raised a brow at your courage.

The silence consumed the valley, lulling the creatures to sleep. Dreadwing let his shoulders drop when you began to close your eyes – he knew you weren’t stupid enough to actually fall asleep, yet he couldn’t help but notice the steady rise and fall of your breathing ( another thing he finds strange about humans). At that he began to lower himself next to her, nearly missing the oncoming call from Soundwave.

* * *

You flagged him down, waving at him enthusiastically. Dreadwing couldn’t hide his amusement at your antics, watching the way you climbed the boulder to better meet his gaze. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that it made no difference, considering that you still barely grazed his chest plates. Ever since your faithful encounter by the cliffside, the two of you have fallen into a habit.

Most of the time you’ll both sit in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. These days, however, you’ve managed to coax more than a few words out of him. You could never forget the first time he smiled at you – the rare gesture presenting itself after you struggled to pronounce his name. “Breadwing?”

Across him was a pool of crystal waters, rippling under the wind’s gentle strokes. The circular lily pads scattered the surface, shielding the scaly creatures lurking underneath, their eyes barely visible as they come to the surface to gulp for air.

She raised a bouquet, a furnished collection of white and gold. He used one hand to cradle it, gently accepting the gift.

“ After our conversation last week – I’ve been thinking.” You shifted your weight in one leg, playing with the string of your bracelet. “ I’m sorry to hear about your twin. Losing a loved one is one of life's most difficult experiences. I want you to know that…that I’m here for you.”

When he made no move to interrupt you, you gestured to the bouquet. “ A floral arrangement has the ability to speak what the heart is feeling when words fail. This – this is for your brother. For Skyquake.”

His eyes widened for a fraction.

“ In addition to their beauty, many flowers carry with them their own unique meaning or emotion. Lilies represent the restored innocence of the soul of the departed, and Gladioli petals remind me of him – tall and majestic, gladioli convey strength of character, moral integrity, and sincerity. White carnations – these ones were tough to grow, but they convey pure love and innocence; while the red ones represent admiration. I added a few pink carnations to symbolize remembrance.”

He was trying his best to follow your explanation – wanting to cling onto every word. Yet, he finds himself swept away by your compassion. Dreadwing was no fool, he knew this was more than sympathy. There was a certain kind of tenderness in his spark, the feeling enough to send his thoughts into a flurry.

_Why?_

This must have been the reason as to why you would come home later than usual, having searched high and low for these rare flowers. He had nonchalantly observed you from afar, wondering why you’d go as far as to fight a feral animal – a rabbit, as you called it, for a single stalk of Gladioli. Now, with the very same blossoms in his hand, _it all makes sense_.

“ In many cultures, chrysanthemums represent truth and are typically regarded as a cheerful way to honor someone who lived a full life. Lastly, pink and white are traditional orchid colors used to express one's sympathy and typically represent eternal love. This is to remind you of your connection with your brother – I’m sure he’s somewhere up there, watching over you.”

You step back, anxious about his reaction. He hasn’t moved an inch, staying very still tot point where you were starting to feel concerned – _oh no, he must’ve hated it. It must have been too personal!_ You mentally slapped yourself, _you should have never_ –

“ Thank you.”

His voice was strained, expression melting into one of surprise. Your breath hitched at his eyes, because for the first time you could see the sincerity in them – seeping through the cracks of his iron facade. You let out a relieved sigh. “ I’m – I’m glad you liked it. I’ve made some modifications so it won’t die out too quickly, but I’m sure you have some fancy alien gizmo ready to preserve it.”

You chuckled, folding your hands proudly behind your back.

The last drops of golden engulfed the horizon. You would always meet by the sunset, an unspoken agreement between the two of you. A flock of rooks dove past you, reaching for the heavens. You admired them, cheering as they waltz through the trees. When you turn to him, he was staring at you.

Your heart fluttered. As if one of the butterflies by your feet have decided to sneak past your ribcages.

He knelt, even then he still has to look down.

Dreadwing regarded your appearance, the wind has disheveled your hair and creased your skirt, the sunrays highlighting the freckles dotting your skin. There was something contagious in your smile, and the fact that you have made it a habit to beam at him – Dreadwing finds it harder to resist returning the favor with each passing day.

A florist, they called you.

He smiled, watching you curl yourself against his arm, feet resting above the soft grass. You had your eyes closed, letting sleep pull you in like the tides by the shore. He extended a finger, gently swiping the specks of dirt across your cheek.

As much as he was reluctant to admit it, there was a certain kind of beauty on Earth - a strange yet comforting form of beauty indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> This came to my mind after listening to Hozier on loop the whole day. I was coincidentally in my own garden when this song played on my phone, and I immediately abandoned my mother's cacti to write this ( sorry cacti ) I hope you guys like it ! Dreadwing deserves better and I love him sm <3  
> This is 4 you Zoonimooni, I hope I did our boy justice !!  
> Also I hope the double pov bits weren't confusing


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